


Everything Led Back to You

by bccalling



Series: All of the Stars [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccalling/pseuds/bccalling
Summary: Ian has finally found his way back to Mickey after leaving him alone at the border nearly a year ago. This time, though, Ian's in for the long haul, and he needs Mickey to understand how sorry he is for walking away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of [Guide Us Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9414029). Ian and Mickey talk about their time apart.

When Ian wakes, body pressed tight to Mickey’s, he thinks maybe he’s dreaming. Everything feels surreal—too good to be true.

Ian feels like his whole world has finally snapped back into place now, here, in this too big bed in this little one room apartment in the middle of fucking Mexico because he’s curled alongside the love of his life, and he’s so fucking happy to have Mickey back.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to the nape of Mickey’s neck and inhaling his lover’s scent. He feels Mickey stir beside him then, Mickey’s fingers wrapping around Ian’s and pulling them to his lips.

“You really here?” 

Mickey’s voice has that sleep-soft rumble to it that Ian fell in love with the moment he first heard it—way back a million years ago when Ian had wandered into the Milkovich house looking for a stolen gun and found the love of his life instead.

But there’s also a hint of fear there. Like Mickey really doesn’t trust his reality. Like he thinks, maybe, the moment he opens his eyes that Ian will be gone—just some distant memory he never should have let back in. And that cuts deep, because Ian? Well, he’d made the wrong choice once upon a time, and it’d taken him nearly a damn year to make it right. Mickey shouldn’t trust him, really. Ian wouldn’t blame him. 

But he’s determined to win back that trust, so he molds himself ever closer to Mickey’s body, tucking his chin into the crook of Mickey’s neck and wrapping his fingers through Mickey’s to entwine them further. Ian feels a smile stretch across Mickey’s face as he snuggles closer and holds tighter, and Ian can’t help but smile back.

“You’re here,” Mickey whispers again, and this time it’s not a question.

“I’m here,” Ian reassures, lifting their joined hands up to his own lips and kissing Mickey’s fingers one by one.

As he does, Mickey shifts slowly until he’s lying on his back, that much closer to Ian, where he can see his lover’s face, and Mickey looks so goddamn happy and free, and Ian can’t believe he’d ever left this behind. Ian lets his fingers lift up to Mickey’s cheek. Lets them rest there drawing gentle little patterns along Mickey’s jawline as Ian’s eyes fill with tears of pain and regret but mostly of joy as those negative feelings start to slowly ebb away because he’s here now and Mickey’s here and they’re going to be okay.

“Never leaving you again, Mickey. I swear to you. I am _so_ sorry.”

“Hey,” Mickey whispers, shifting further until he’s fully face to face with Ian and letting his fingers play in the hair at Ian’s temple. “You’re here now. That’s what matters for me, okay? Long as you don’t leave me high and dry, you’re forgiven.”

Ian eyes Mickey for a moment, reading all the love and compassion and forgiveness resting in the other man’s features, and he can’t help but gasp at the emotion that takes over his heart and leaves tears stinging in his eyes. “How can you just forgive me?” Ian whispers out, all awe and regret. “I abandoned you, Mick. I was so fucking stupid, and I fucking regretted it the moment you were out of my sight, but I made that choice, and I _hurt_ you. Mandy was right. I never should have gotten in that car unless I was one hundred percent sure I was going to go through with it. That was so fucking unfair to you, Mick. So selfish. I’m always so fucking selfish, and you deserve so much more than me.”

Ian’s breaking down, and Mickey’s smiling sadly at his words, Mickey’s fingers never breaking contact with Ian’s skin—just resting and caressing and grounding—and it helps Ian come down enough to take a steadying breath. Once Ian’s calmed, Mickey gently tugs Ian down into the cradle of his arms, holding Ian close and laying Ian’s hand over the beat of Mickey’s heart. It’s a simple gesture and Ian’s not even sure Mickey realizes he’s done it, but it soothes Ian nonetheless as he settles in Mickey’s arms.

“You deserve _everything_ , Ian,” Mickey insists quietly. “Sometimes, yeah, you’re really fucking selfish, but who the hell isn’t. It was selfish of me to come traipsing back into your life the way I did. To expect you to drop everything and follow me—a damn fugitive on the run—when you were doing so well without me. That wasn’t fair. But then, lots of things aren’t fair, and I did what I did and you did what you did, and it sucked for a while. For both of us. But we’re here now, Ian. We figured it out.”

Ian’s nodding gently against Mickey, eyes filled with love and sadness. Mickey’s right, Ian knows. They’ve both been selfish. But Ian also knows that he’s asked for so much more and given so much less in return over the entirety of their relationship, and Ian hates that about himself. Doesn’t care where it comes from or why it’s happened. Just hates that Mickey always loves and supports and forgives without a second thought when Mickey deserves the goddamn world. Ian resolves, then, to give Mickey exactly that. He mouths a gentle _I’m so sorry_ against Mickey’s collarbone as he nuzzles his face there, and he feels Mickey smile in response, soothing fingers painting patterns on Ian’s skin.

“You’re here now,” Mickey insists with confidence. “That’s what matters, Ian. _You’re here now_.”

“Won’t leave you again,” Ian promises, pressing careful kisses to Mickey’s chest, his fingers tracing the ink of his own name on Mickey’s skin where the lettering peeks out from beneath the tank top Mickey's wearing. He smiles delicately. It’s beautiful, really. Misspelling and all. It feels like _them_. And the fact that Mickey had done it on his own—the delicate script is that much more impressive. Ian can feel Mickey tense a bit, though, when he realizes what Ian’s doing, and he hates that Mickey’s self conscious about it. “It’s beautiful, Mick.”

Mickey scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “It’s fucking stupid is what it is. Never should've done it.”

“Never should've made you feel like that. Can’t believe you did this for me, Mick. It couldn’t have been easy, having another guy’s name tattooed over your heart while you were in the joint.” Ian feels Mickey shrug; can feel the insecurities rolling off him, and Ian feels so fucking guilty for every goddamn thing he’d ever done to make Mickey feel like he needed to work so hard to prove himself to Ian. “It’s so fucking beautiful. Just like you.”

Mickey rolls his eyes and jostles Ian with his shoulder. “Fuck off, asshole. I’m not a fucking girl.”

“No shit, dickhead. That’s why I fucking like you,” Ian quips back, lightening the mood enough for a wide, genuine smile to stretch across Mickey’s face.

“How ‘bout we stop with the sappy bullshit, and make up for lost time, huh?” Mickey proposes, shoving at Ian’s shoulder until Ian rolls away and Mickey’s able to pull himself up and swing a leg over Ian’s hips. Ian smiles up at Mickey with that fucking look that somehow manages to be simultaneously adorable and seductive, and Mickey’s so fucking gone for him. Now and always. And Ian has never been more relieved to see that look of adoration staring back at him.

Ian shifts up as best he can to catch Mickey’s lips with his own. They hadn’t spent much time reconnecting like this the night before. Their time together so far has been made up of tears and desperate apologies, and they’d spent the night just holding one another. It hadn’t been the right moment to dive back into sex, and Ian’s grateful for that, really, because he thinks they needed the time to transition. But they’re both feeling the separation now, and they need that connection again.

“You gonna let me love you this time?” Mickey asks softly, leaning down to press gentle kisses to the cut of Ian’s jaw.

Ian gives a shaky smile and then pulls back a touch, fingers guiding Mickey back until Ian can catch Mickey’s gaze. “Always,” Ian whispers, eyes locked on Mickey’s. The guilt is back again, tugging at Ian's chest and making him feel every fucking hurt he'd ever caused Mickey. "I’m sorry it took me so long to say it back. I’m sorry I treated the words like some kind of burden. And I’m sorry I chose goodbye for the first time I said them.”

Ian runs his fingers through Mickey’s hair, letting them come to rest at the nape of Mickey’s neck. Mickey smiles at Ian, his eyes moving over the delicate image Ian makes beneath him. “It’s okay, Ian,” Mickey promises, the words genuine. Mickey always forgives.

Ian sighs against a buildup of tears as a sad smile crosses his features. Gently, he rest the tips of his fingers against Mickey’s cheek and pulls Mickey down into another soft kiss, and Mickey fits his body tight against Ian’s, the contact offering the reassurance they both need.

“I love you,” Ian murmurs out against Mickey’s lips. “I should have said it every goddamn day, Mickey. And I will from here on out. I swear to you.”

Mickey shakes his head with a little grin, keeping his eyes locked on Ian’s. “You’re _here_ , Ian," Mickey repeats as though it really is everything. Ian thinks for Mickey it might be. " _We’re_ here. That’s all that matters, okay. I love you. I know you love me—otherwise you wouldn’t be here. It’s time to start living in the present. Stop feeling guilty over a past we can’t change and focus on our future. Together. Okay?”

Ian smiles at the way Mickey’s eyebrows lift in question, and he nods happily. Ian has a lot of guilt. He _should_ have a lot of guilt after everything he’s put Mickey through. But Mickey’s right. They’re here, together, and Ian will have the rest of his life to make up for all of those mistakes.

So instead of pushing the conversation, Ian surges up to plant another kiss on Mickey’s lips, harsher and more desperate than the last, and when he has Mickey sufficiently distracted, Ian wraps an arm firmly around Mickey’s waist and uses his strength to flip them so Ian can take control. He lays Mickey out beneath him as Mickey murmurs out _Not fucking fair, Gallagher!_ and Ian breathes out a laugh against Mickey’s lips, breaking away only to strip the tank Mickey’s wearing over his head so Ian can shift his lips down to the firm expanse of Mickey’s bare chest.

“My turn to love _you_ ,“ Ian insists, lips never breaking from Mickey’s skin, and Ian feels Mickey gasp out a sigh at the affections, Mickey’s fingers weaving gently through Ian’s hair to guide him. Ian laughs a little at that, and murmurs out, “Pushy, pushy, Mick.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey counters, tugging a bit at Ian’s hair. “You fucking love it.”

“Yeah,” Ian agrees, mischievous grin spreading as he pulls back slightly to capture Mickey’s lips again. “Yeah, I do.”

Mickey bites his lower lip with that fucking smile that leaves Ian wanting every goddamn time, and Ian is so fucking happy to have that back. “Get the fuck on with it, then, tough guy,” Mickey insists, leaning over the edge of he bed to dig out the bottle of lube he keeps there and chucking it at Ian’s chest. 

Ian catches it with another little laugh and a shake of his head before grabbing Mickey’s hips and dragging the other man back into the center of the large bed. Mickey shakes his head and scoffs in mock frustration as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his lip in a gesture that immediately calls Ian’s eyes back to Mickey’s mouth. With a little smirk, Ian captures Mickey’s mouth again, nipping at Mickey’s full bottom lip as he presses his hips down into Mickey’s in a slow little rhythm that leaves Mickey gasping, head lolling back and breaking the kiss.

Ian’s smirk only grows as Mickey works to collect himself, and when Mickey’s managed to get himself under control, Mickey reaches out to pinch the skin on Ian’s hip. “You know, as much as I like your lips, maybe you could put them to better use, yeah? ‘Cause we’re still half fucking clothed, and I’d like to get fucked sometime today, so maybe get a fucking move on, man.”

Ian laughs then—genuine and light and carefree—as he tucks his face against the crook of Mickey’s neck. “Fuck, I missed you," he whispers out, losing himself as he holds Mickey close. His words are soft, but they’re real and they bring a smile back to Mickey’s lips, too.

And if maybe their eyes well up with a few stray tears and the mood shifts from playful to soft and loving, there’s no one there to see but the two of them. And they have never been happier.

* * *


End file.
